Floor pie

Let me reaffirm my fondness of making out: it's awesome. Humanity, as a whole, does not make out enough. Making out is good for your soul. When done correctly and with correct frequency, making out can help you blossom into a wholesome, radiant being.

There are many different ways to make out, and none of them are wrong. If it feels good, how can it be wrong? Society may try to dictate your makings-out, but don't be swayed from embracing your moment to connect intimately with another human being for a short time. Or a long time.

My favorite variety of making out is the Topless Make Out Session, wherein one or both parties are without clothing above the waist. You might choose to include bras, tank tops, or any variety within undershirt/undergarment milieu at your discretion. This form of making out, topless, can be performed vertically, say, in the middle of your kitchen, or horizontally using furniture or other structures for assistance and comfort. Angular varieties have not occurred, or have not yet been documented, presumably as a result of the difficulty of sustaining this position for extended periods of time. There is no limit for duration with this making out variety, as opposed to the Quickie, wherein the characteristics of the make out are rapid and the overall session is not sustained. Hegemonic definitions of the Topless Make Out Session often entail the procession of normal day-to-day activities after the cessation of the act. Here, the term normal day-to-day activities may be subject to evaluation and speculation, but it is at least safe to assume that these activities include domestic work, wage-earning work, and common leisure activities (hunting, reading, or farming).

Fact: I have seriously considered eating a spoonful of butter at least once in the past 24 hours.

Fact: Ex-boyfriends are no fun on a Sunday night when it's cold outside and you have papers to write and whole books to read and you should be in a circle on the couch with the comforter from your bed all cozy-like with your cat.

Fact: I am missing a Cake concert at THIS VERY MOMENT.

I don't fucking know, man. What we REALLY need is to wake up in the morning and not have cracked lips and mascara residue under your eyes. Or to stop watching so much reality tv and listen to public radio instead. To stop thinking about moderation and live your life like you're going to be photographed naked the next day. To quit your fucking job that is a life-suck and work for a) The Wisconsin State Historical Society, b) University of Wisconsin, or c) WORT.

Did you feel left out of No-Shave November festivities? Jezebel recently cleared that up: Decembrow. I'm in.